Moving

Well, we've finally moved into our new home and our a mere eight hours away from saying goodbye to our apartment forever. I am so sore from moving boxes and cleaning the old place and rearranging and cleaning and recleaning the new place. Herrumph.

After only 30 mintues in our new home Aren declared that he "knew this place backwards and forwards". Good job dude! Tatiana was a little apprehensive the first two days, constantly calling out for me and Rick. I guess for an almost two year old it's hard to go from a where you can plug your vaccum in an outlet and clean the whole place to a house where you actually have to unplug and move around.

Pictures are coming, it's just going to take a while to finish unpacking. Maybe I'll take a break and do some this afternoon...we'll see.

Who's Bright Idea Was This?

Seriously, I have a lot of bones to pick with Heavenly Father when I finally get the chance to meet Him and my latest is this...who decided that it would be a great idea to create a viral infection that is only contagious when there are no signs of having the illness and once a huge rash shows up from head to toe you are no longer a medical threat. Really?

And what kind of name is Fifth Disease anyway. It should be called fugly little rash.

Go Ahead...Ask Me

Ask me if we finally signed on a house yesterday that we can afford. And ask me if we're making our final credit card payment which mean no more debt except for student loans and a few random medical bills left over from Aren's broken leg days. Go ahead...ask me if I'm happy!

Im So Happy I Could Dance - The Salteens

Best Commercial on TV

Worth the Seven Minutes

Ok, this is long, but it's so worth it! Especially at the end where a kid tells us what the punishment was for Eve :)

Pottage is SO Old Testament

I'm sure we're all familiar with the story of Jacob and Esau and how Esau sold his birthright to Jacob for a bowl of pottage. I know we all think the same thing...really? Come on, there is no way that pottage is really that amazing...well, unless it's as yummy as a kitchen is clean.

All I ever want for Mother's Day is a clean kitchen. This morning I realized the only way I would get that gift was if I did it myself. Forty-five minutes or so later, my kitchen sparkled and off we went to church. When we got home it was still sparkling which was no shock since no one had been home and the thought of dirtying up this little piece of heaven was too much to bare, so I made Rick load up the kids in the car off we went to Chili's where I decided my eternal salvation was worth a chicken fajita pita with a side of veggies and a glass of ice water with lemon.

I might be going to hell, but the kitchen I leave behind will be spotless.

Politically Correct

You know the commercial for Assurant Health where the girl decked out in her gym clothes is talking about medical insurance and how she was pretty healthy and only needed to see her "personal" doctor once a year? What's the deal? Quit trying to shy away from correct terminology.

Hoo-ha doctors are called gynecologists.

Let Them Be Little

After school is an interesting time at my house. Most days I have piano students and/or voice students here and on top of that we've become the hang out hub. Some days I'm annoyed, but most days I enjoy having everyone around so I can keep track of them. Needless to say it can be a zoo. Yesterday there was a knock at the door and a little girl came in litterally sobbing. The chaos came to a hault as I asked this sweet little girl what the matter was.

Through endless tears this seven year old girl explained that her life was "falling apart" because her mom was losing her apartment because she didn't have money to pay the rent and her grandparents couldn't afford to help her and selling the car wasn't an option because then she couldn't get to work. She followed by telling me detailed information about her father and the divorce he and her mom were going through and the problems her mom was having with the lawyer and when I realized my jaw was on the floor I stopped her.

We talked for a few minutes and I reminded her that she was seven and that seven year old girls aren't supposed to worry about these things. It was her job to worry about homework and piano lessons, brushed teeth and clean underwear. She eventually calmed down, almost slightly convinced that she needed to let adults worry about adult things and eventually went outside with Aren for a "club meeting" and for her the world was right again if only for a moment.

For me though, the world just got a little more upsetting. Why do parents feel the need to turn their children into their friends and tell them all the details about their adult lives? Why do parents allow their children to sit beside them and watch shows that are obviously not appropriate for them? When did playing with Barbie dolls become something that eight year old girls have outgrown?

Just let them be little.

Family Lowe's Evening

With our closing date creeping ever more near (cross your fingers!) we decided to head over to Lowe's and check out some paint followed by a drive by at the local Sonic. Ask Tatiana if she had a good time...